


practice

by orphan_account



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Accidental fusion, F/F, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dancing, like any other art, takes practice to perfect.or, opal jacks off





	practice

Dancing, like any other art, takes practice to perfect.

 

Sex is just like dancing, they think. Well, at least _their_ sex is. Bodies moving in unison, fingers, mouths, knowing just where to place themselves, where to kiss, where to stroke; there's Pearl, so graceful and precise, and there is Amethyst, passionate and all-consuming without being truly formless and they merge and meld together.

 

Mistakes are a natural and intricate part of practice, though -- and when Pearl's fingers glide up Amethyst's thick, generous flesh, rubbing circles into her, and their hips rock together in short, shallow thrusts before finding that fluid, _grinding_ rhythm, and hearty gasps fill the soundless environment, and Pearl leans down, lips meeting lips, cool meeting warm in a tender, single press, and their forms are enveloped in a vibrant, white glow --

 

\-- and it leaves Opal, nude, on her back, eyes wide, well, she's (they're) not too surprised. It's not the first, or the second, or the third. They hadn't meant to fuse, but accidents happen.

 

Pearl, as always, dislikes making mistakes; that's why Opal gives a brilliant _streeetch_ of her arms before preparing to defuse...but then Amethyst protests within her, within her core. You can see the cognitive dissonance in her expression, the two halves that make her whole splitting her apart yet making her one _"C'mon, P,"_ she says in a robotic, matter-of-fact tone, _"let's do it like this."_

 

Opal is disoriented, but she gets ahold of herself as she eventually finds inner harmony once more. She presses her body back into the welcoming sheets of the bed she's rested on and it eagerly accepts her frame; her lids close and she breathes, in, out, in, out, chest ballooning with useless air and puffing out again. She touches herself, on her neck, her cheeks, a single, slender digit ghosting over her lips. Her tongue pokes out to lick it, coating it with a thin sheen of saliva.

 

She knows her own body, but she wants to know it even further, snaking one pair of her hands down, over her chest, to nestle under her breasts. They're larger than Pearl is used to having, but smaller than Amethyst's, just perfect. She gives them a squeeze, her second pair of limbs reaching and pinching, plucking her nipples until they're stiff and deliciously sore. A sigh escapes her thick lips, one eye just barely opening to watch her purple nipples harden under her palms. God, it's so sensual, just the sight of it makes her shudder, her body heating up, dull throb already between her legs.

 

She strokes her torso, her hips, her grasp fitting to her curvature immediately, traces circles on her ribs, squeezes her breasts simultaneously and she _moans_ , flushes; her skin's so sweet and supple, her figure slender but with wide hips and plump thighs. Opal crosses her legs and bucks her hips in just the right way, stimulating something, something down _there--_

 

She doesn't want to touch her sex, yet, but it's getting difficult to resist. Opal flips over onto her stomach, folds one of her arms under her chin and atop the pillow to rest upon, cushiony breasts pressing under her. She hums, eyes closed, warmth blooming across her nose and cheeks, heart thudding; a small trickle of saliva leaks from the corner of her mouth as her sexual energy builds. Another one of her arms nestles under her body, her finger circles her navel in its descent, and just barely grazes her blonde pubic hair, a patch above her sex just like a crown. She dips that finger lower, shudders instantly as she feels the stickiness coating it; she skims her clit and drags it through her fleshy folds and oh fuck. **_Fuck_**. Opal groans, pinches her nipples, sending another surge of pleasure through her. Her pussy lips are flushed and thick and engorged, a deep lavender colour, heartbeat thumping in her clit. Her (their) cunt's _begging_ to be touched.

 

Opal shifts her position once more, planting her knees into the mattress and raising her hips up for better access; she whimpers as her glistening warmth is exposed to the cool air. The slender digits of one hand work to spread her swollen lips apart, opening twitching; the second rubs around her hole, pushing the tip of one finger just barely into the hot canal and pulling out again. She releases a muffled whine, a third hand reaching to grind its thumb against her clit in a fast downward motion, moving it in circles, pulling the hood back and grunting in satisfaction as she explores her body's unique anatomy. 

 

She can't take it anymore -- with a loud moan two fingers thrust into her and she squeals, excited, as they pump in and out. Her fingers are so long, reaching amazingly deep, pressing against the inner walls of her cunt, marveling at how fleshy and ribbed it all is. Sticky fluids are oozing between her fingers, leaking onto her hands, and _fuck_ it's _amazing._ She delivers deep, powerful thrusts into herself that fill her to the hilt and radiate all throughout her body. She adds a third, a thoroughly pleased moan slipping from her at the stretch, the test of her depth and width, walls accommodating the girth and yet clamping all the same. Her body'ss damp with sweat, legs shuddering and shaking; Opal doesn't even realise she's been holding her breath as she furiously strokes at her swollen clit. It's only a matter of seconds before she comes, powerful, a throaty yell escaping her as her cunt contracts around her own digits, her mind and her body swamped with exhilarating warmth and sweet, sweet pleasure, chest ballooned with oxygen and bliss as every nerve in her body lights up. It's so delicious she doesn't know how she's keeping herself together in every sense of that word, her clit and insides pulsing and pulsing -- sharp -- **_perfect--_**

 

When she's done, Opal flops, trying to catch her breath. Her fingers slide out of herself and she cleans them off with a pleased sound, enjoying her taste as she tries to return to reality. She doesn't defuse. Not yet. Rather, she (they) chooses to bask in the delicious afterglow, brain soaked in a sea of dopamine, her body tingly and shaking and blissful. She's glowing.


End file.
